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R. H. BI.ODGETT, Fublid&er. TERMSj—$1,00 PER ANNUM IN ADVANCE.
VOLUME 1. EAST HADDAM, SATURDAY, JANUARY 14, I860. NO. 41.
Journal,
B. H. BLODGEII, Pnblidimr.
The JocRKAL is published every Saturday
Morning at East Haddam, Conn., and will be left
at the readence of sobseribeis in both Upper and
Lower Landings at $1 25 per year in advance, or
f 1 60 at the expiration of the year. Subscribers
who r e e ^ e t hw paper at the office or by mail, $1
per year in advance, or $1 25 at the end of the
.year.
"RATES O F A D V E R T I S I N Q .
One square, one week $l 00
Ea^sobeequent insertion 25
One square 2 months 3 M
-One square « months 4 W
' One square 6 months. o 00
One square one 'year.^ • 8 00
ABberal deduction wiU be made to those
• who advertise by the year.
"BOOK AND JOB PRINTING in all its branch-es,
executed with neatness and ^patch, onrea
eonable terms.
JONA'N T. CLABKE,
Attorney and Counselor atlAW.
ANL> N O T A R Y P U B L I C,
Goodspeed's Lwding,
EAST HADDAM, CONN.
w . H. KEIiSET,
JLttomey and<3ounBelor at Law
And Commlasioncr of the Superior Cvoit.
C JLOII ESTER, CONN.
c . S . G L A D W I N , Constable and Collector. Offiee ^ t h J. T. Clarke,
East Haddam, Conn
Bool^ Job and Card Printing
OF EVERY DESCRIPTION
IBxecuted with neatness, and on reasonable teiins,
at tlus office.
rTRUMBXTLIi BOTJSEi
B Y T>' A. R O O D ,
48 State Street, HABTFOBD, COHH.
N O L M S T E D C J K A P M A N ,
Organist and Teacher of aSnsie.
East Haddam, Conn.
Lcissoiu irtvea at the reeideiices of papUs or at Us nwias
•T TLUT GelitUin HOOKA.
Chide XildlyilieEiring.
'Chiiie mildly the erring!
Kind l a n ^ e e endean:
Grief follows Ae mnful,—
Add not to their tears*
Avoid with reproaches
Fresh pun to bestow;,
The heart which is stricketa
Needs never a Mow.
Chide mildly the^efHog'!
Jeer kiotat theirfiOl-I
If strength were bat linmaa
How weakly were all!
^ h a t marvel that footsteps
ShouU wander astray.
When tempests so shadow
Ufe^s wearisome way!
Chide mildly the erring !
Entreat Aem with care !
Their natnies are mortal.;
They need not despair.
We all have some fruity.
We all are unwise,
And the grace which redeems us
Must amine from the skies.
W. M. S M I T H ,
DKALEK IN
Dry Goods, Groceries, Provisions
Tlonr, Feed, Mnts, Oil Cnx^ery WaA,
FBCIT, CONFECTIONERY, KC.
Goodspecd's Landing, East Haddam, Conn.
•G. E . Ss W . H . G O O D S P E E D ,
WUOLKSALK XSt) RETAIL DEALEBJ IN
Groceries, Dry Goods, Provisionsf
n o u , Lumbar, P^to^^jHto, ••miahN, P^ar
Goodspecd's Landing, April 16, 1859.
J , A T T W O O D,
DEALER IN
Keady-Made Clothing, Boots and
ghoai, Onts FuBiahiag Goods, Hats and Ci^a,
OBCGS, AND XEDICINES PATENT MEDICINES, PER-RCMERT,
SCHOOL BOOKS, ICC.
'Goodqxied*s Landing, Conn.
S A M U E L COOK,
Manufitcturer and Dealer in all kinds of
CABXXTET F U R N I T U RE
Z«aldag 01aaaaa,Faath«n, Spriog Bads, Ihttiaaa-
CLOCKS, WOOD a n d WILLOW WARE TC.
'Qoodepeed^a Landing, Conn.
H. THOMPSON,
XAXCFACnrBBR AND DEALER IN
SMnesaes, Saddles, Bridles,
WHIPS, TRUNKS, &c-
Goodspecd's Landing.
S O L . I . E S , S E X T O N & C O .,
COiailSSION MERCHANTS AM) DEALERS IN
-^ancy and Staple Dry Goods.
Ibaiarj, JgttoM, Bibbau,
Also, a general assortment of
. T A I L O B S * TBIMMINGS.
No. SO A^lnm Straet, Hartford, Conn.
INEZ MORTIMER.
A TALE OF BY-GOXE DATS.
CHAPTER L
The waning orange of an autumnal sun-set
lingered with a calm and melancholj
glow on the verge of the western heav-ues,
and the silver east was all-a-glow
with the smiles of the harvest-moon.
Twilight had gathered her sombre cur-tains,
and pinned them with a star ; and
a holy pea^, kindred to rest above, was
brooding over the mellow light >ef the rich
autumn eve.
Beneath the old ^Boestrai trees that
hovered lovingly around a stately man-sion
of the olden .time, sat Inez Auburn
alone.
'Farewell, my own dear ^ew ISngland,"
she gently murmured, "a long, a sad fare-well."
The autumn moon will rise and
set, and her softibeanBSWiil ^eam anon^
tlie haunts where I roved-with the lovecl
of childhood, and I shall be far, far away
from these dear scenes. To-night the fu-ture
of my life ^ U %e sealed fur ^eal or
woe. A melunclKily, IcMie as the music
uf a dream, comes over me, and whispers
if coming sorrow and gloom, But no, it
cannot be,—long days <»f sunny pleasure
m u s t await the bi4de of Clinton Mortimer
the rich, the noble, the beautiful, Clinton.
But, oh I these dark forebodings !"
Inez Auburn was a bride, the bride
Clinton Mortimer. She ltad long been the
reigning belle of the village where she
resided, and many a worthy heart IMUI
sought her hand in vain. 'In the summer
of her eighteenth year, she had formed
the acquaintance of a young man from
the West. The ostentation he «88umed
led every one to believe he was wealthy.
As the Auburns were '(te'mest ii^Hratia]
and aristocratic peetole m <£he village, he
had beco- le tlieir wdcome guest, and his
pleasing manners and fascinating adress
had quite won 4be !heart *ef Inez, who
soon expected to grace his western home.
His name was Clinton Ucn^imer.
Inez had long 4<eeeived^e attentions
of Martin Beed, her childhood's friend
but her passionate affection fur Clinton
had cattsed ^ r to break the familiarity
that had existed between them.
As she was nearing her home on this
her nupital eve. she was -surprised to
meet Martin in>the gainien where she
had ^ n mnsiqg, and where she had
spent so matoy happy hours with hinuin
days departed.
"Inez, 1 have come to bid you a long
farewell,—to tell you that I remain true
to the love I pledge you in happier days.
O I often, whett you are tar away on
summer prairie, I shall wander by these
dear scenes, where we to eft liave roamed
together, and think of the days gone by,
Although a correspondence between us
would be wrong, yet, when the twilight
dews are falling upon the distant prairie
when the summer moon smiles on the
rising even ; when you sing the songs
other days,—^let thoughts of ^but
igs carry
wat will tend to make
CHAFTFR n
After a long journey, Clinton informed
Inez that they were fast nearing their
western home. They had traveled since
morning on horseback, through a wild au-tumnal
forest. Every taw was di-essed
in crimson and.gold ; and the deep, sun-ny
skies of 0(?t6ber shed almost an un-earthly
beauty o<rer the tranquil beauty
of nature, llie day was softly melting
into the melancholy light of evening as
they entered a dell of i^erbrush, in the
centre of which rose a 'moss grown hut
yartly covered with serrivy.
"Oh 1 how my weaiy heart does long
to be in my prairie home sighed Inez.
"Are we not almost through the forest V
•'AU the prairie home thai ym will ever
tee Ues before you !" retiuned Clinton, with
a cold, iendish-smile.
"He spurred his stee^ and rushed on to
the cabin. Inez followed. He comman-ded
her to dismount h v horse, and enter
the hut. Trembling and bewildered, she
obey^. He fastened Ae door, and, turn-ing
a deaf ear to her criis for mercy, rode
back through the dim aisLs of the forest.
Clinton proceeded to a western city,
and there wrote a letter to the father of
Inez, telling him that his daughter was iu
esctacies over her new home, and solici-ting
a few thousand 'ddllars to meet an
unexpected pecuniaty crisis. This was
afterw»ds granted, and the fell designs
of Clinton -were crowned with success.
"Oh 1 b irning de9ire for gold, what
dost thou not lead human mind to
do r ]
OHAFTEWUI.
Frantic ^ t l i griel^ Inez passed the
chiHy night in her caibin, hoping in vain
that Clinton would lietum. But the low,
mournful blast, and, ever and anon, the
wild ciy of some beast, of the forest were
the only sounds that broke the stillness
of the hours. Morningf'came, and with
it Clhiton returned, bringing in his wag-on
provision, and utensils for housekeep-ing.
He unbarred thp^ door and «i>tered.
"Clinton is it you ? 'Oh I tell me what
means my being hercs^ said Inez.
This is 'to be your future home ; and
here I shall provide for you as my wife
It is useless for you to think of escaping,
Mark my words, if yoti dare io attompt
lb
B R O W N SB G R O S S ,
PUBLISREBS,
Booksellers and Stationers,
«1S Main Street, (comer Asylum) Hartford, Conn
GHARI.ES BENTON,
Soap and Candle ^ Uannfiotiirer,
44MorganSt,10rodswestofthe greatBridge,
HABTFORD, CONN.
o r Gash paid for Tallow. Ashes and Grease
fAin in exchange for Soap.
have let my feelings me too far.
will ask nothing
you-unworthy of him whose lot you are
so soon to share. I will simply ask that
you will dierish a remembrance of me."
"I never shall forget you Martin. The
memoiy of those we have loved are the
aramanth blossoms of the soul.''
They pwted. Already weddmg guests
were arriving at the Auburh mansion.—
Convivial houis of hiliarily followed, and
Inez became Ifae wife of Olmton. That
ni^ht they started for tbe nearest city^
pnot to their leaving the East for then-distant
home, which Clinton had pictured
to Inez as overlooking one of the mo§t
beautiful prainesofthe West, and vying
in splendor with the richest mansions in
Kew England.
down here, and bein' she was afeered to
come alone, she got me to come with her,
an' bring you a Bible."
They said that their names were Jean
and Maud, and that they lived but a few
miles from Inez, and told her that she
did not kno /r before, that she was resi-ding
near a passable, though an almost
unfrequented road. After this Jean and
Maud visited Inez almost daily.
Clinton at last returned again. Wound-ed
and covered with gore, lie entered his
home, and laid himself on the bed. Day
after day he grew worse, and Inez saw
that he must die.
escape from this cabin when I am pfone
you will be a dead woman !"
He proceeded to furnish the cabin, and
to bring in his provision. After doing
this, he left Inez, and she saw hhn nu
moBc for weeks.
Grief, mortification and despair took
possession of the heart o¥ tne^. She
dared not escape, and with a dark future
before her, she submitted to her cruel fate.
Thinking of the loved, and her home far,
f-«r away, she passed the long days in
her solita^ aboide.
Time rolled on. Clinton would return
after an absence of weeks, and bring pro-visions,
and after spending a few days at
his home, Ihe would dt:part to places un-known
to Inez, whom "he treated with
cold indifference.
A .year flew by. Inez became a mother-
Pleasttte'ncm 'gatheTea abound the 6eth-semane
'df Ii^r years. All her affections
were placed upon her beautiful offspring,
and she gave up her fond day dreams of
home and fHen^ afar. But alas I how
soon were her joys to be blighted I
It was a cold night in winter. The
evergreens'Were bending low with their
wei^t of snow, and the glassy icicles
littered mournfully in the cold twilight.
Ilinton returned to his home intoxicated,
and commanded Inez to take her babe,
and leave the She ,pleaded for
men^ 'Sn^ her child in vain. The door
was barred against her. Hour after hour
she walked around the hut, with her bale
pressed to her bosom. Almost perishing
with cold, lAie again plead for mercy.
Her plea was granted. She entered the
cabin, and by the low flame of fire she
saw that her child was—dead. • Clinton
saw it, and with a wild demoniac cry,
he rushed from the scene of woe, leaving
Inez to her solitude.
Beneath the dark green boughs of the
nioumful hemlock, Inez made her child a
grave with her own hands. In calm des-pair
she laid the (»ld earth upon the dear
lips and <^eek that alone had pressed
hers for years, and satiated her love.
She shed no tears for their font was dry.
One day, Inez was sitting alone in her
home, she saw a strange looking man
and woman approaching. She hastened
to meet them. They all entered the cab-in,
and the man thus made known his
mission :
""Got a mighty smart minister up to the
village—always a preachin' 'bout the
heathen, an' doin' good, and wife she's
got wind of there l^in' a heathen woman.
CHAPIEB IV.
"I am dying—dying 1 Oh, what will
becomeof my guilty soul? Sing—pray
—anything, Inez. I can't die—I won't
die," and Clinton Mortimer raised himself
from his pillow, then, rolling back—his
glassy eyes, he sunk down iu wild des-pair.
The wan cold moon shed her pale light
through the room where lay the dying
Clinton. His body was convulsed with
agouy, and retribution was turning in
his frenzied brain.
"Sing, Inez, the hymn that I heard you
sing yesterday."
Mournfully floated the melody,
**£lest i8 the scene when Cbtiatians die,
When holy souls retire to rest;
How mildly beams the closing eye I
How gently heaves the expiring breast.
••So fiides a summer clond away,
So^nks the gale when storms are o'er ;
•So gently shuts the eye of day:
So dies a wave along the shore.
Triumphant smiles the victoa's brow,
F. nnedbv some n a r d i a n angel's^ng;
O, grave, where is fl»j victory now !
And where, O, death, where'is thy sting
"Tis not for me," murmured Clinton,
"all is lost—lost." His eyes became fix-ed,
the storm of life died away, and Cln-ton
Mortimer was no more. Jean made
a grave by the foi'est ever^een, and laid
down the dead to its silent i=Cst.
How great is the fall from virtue, and
the .pioifercd mercy from God. How sol-emn
to launch forth from the dark shores
of time into a boundless eternity.
Jean took Inez to his home, and in a
few weeks she bid adieu to Maud and
Jean accompanied her to a distant vil-lage.
'Clinton had left her mouey, and
she now determined to seek her western
home. With many tears she bid farewell
to the simple but kind-hearted Jean, to
see him again no more.
It 'Was the evening before Inez depar-ted
for the East. The dying embers of
the sunken flame of day were lingering
beauteously upon the west, and in their
dim light, throng after throng was wend-ing
joyously on to the village clinrch
Inez determined to follow. She entered
the church and beheld the village pastor.
His looks seemed familiar, and his voice
brought to her mind the many pleasant
seasons of long, long ago. Still she knew
him not. He recognized her by the lin-pering
marks of the beauty of former
yf are, and it was with diflBculty that he
restrained his emotions, and ended his
discourse. The pastor was Martin! At
Strange Thoughts upon a Strange
Theme.
We are surrounded by the sensitive.
A word—a look, eveiH-may send a thrill
of anguish to a. generous bosom, without
an intention on our part to. wOiind in the
least. We are all differentlybonstituted.
All have hearts, and yet, no two hearts
beat with the'same emotions in thfe same
train of feeling or sympathy ; all possest-minds—^
thinking, acting, advancing-thought-
machines—and yet, no two men-tal
workshops have the very same engJh
ry, moulded and fashioned, upon exactly
the same plan. We have each a spirit,
and yet, how unlike ! Thus, every soul
answers for its own doings, and every
heart knows its* own sorrow. None arc
so perfect in this life but that they miget
become better. None are so wise thai
they may not be taught, even by a little
child, some lesson of wisdom ; and rea-der
I none are so eri-ing, that ={hey may
not find pardon at the foot 6f Cahrary.
But to our subject. Shall we write it ?
Can you read it, or is your ear so delicate,
your nerves so sensitive, your nature so
self-righteous, that your whole being will
be/shocked at even the mention of a "Di-vorce
?"
"How many cases of divorce I" What
is the world coming to ?" "Our laws ar ?
miserable things in such matters !" "JUiIr-
So-and-sohas parted with his wife !" "It's
enough to know of Mrs. Snch-a-one that
she has left her husband "For my
part I will not countenance such things I"
"There must be somethiag wrong, for she
is divorced from l.er husband I" Keader,
we have listened to such expressions ev-er
since we were bom. While others
have talked and gossipped and prated,
with long faces and self-conceited hearts,
we have bit our lips, drive back the hot
tears, choked down the "rising loads,"
and kept silent until we have resolved to
speak out and "say oitr say."
That divorces are lamentable, is a truth;
a painful truth. That marriage is God's
holiest institution, is a sublime and beau-tiful
fact ; that its sacred rights aro tri-fled
with and desecrated, is equally
known and felt with sorrow. But it does
not follow that all divorces are terrible
wrongs ; and dear reader, when you thus
willfully, thoughtlessly, or tauntingly
scatter your censure to tlie four winds,
you are liable at any moment to send a
thousand-barbed arrows to the bosom of
some suffering fellow^Hfcrtal. We know
uot who has drank the bitter drugs t^
woe. We may not fathom one pang of
sorrow, or analize on-^ scalding tear^'op,
It is not otirs to tell the pangs, the heart-aches,
the knawiug, witheiing, killing
woes tliat have drank up the very springs
of life, and love, and joy from a noble na-ture.
For instance, reader, you may meet a
stranger-face, and tlnd yourself drawn by
a sort of instinct iatu friendly converse.
You naturally run into the subject of
divorce* the almosi universal topic of the
day. You have always had a horror tif
such sins. Your domestic relations have
the close of the sermon, he sought and,n ever been ruf,f led. Youar course of lovte,
accompanied her to the hotel w..ere she > our flowers are fresh
was tarrying, and listened to her strange
tale of days departed. It was a halcyon
meeting—Inez and Martin. The next
day they started for the East. Inez
found her parents still living, and in a
few years she became the happy bride of
Martin.
HOBRIBLE, THOUGFI TRUE.—have been
thinking how horrible it must be to see
anybo<^y one cares for, drunk; the honest
eye dull and meaningless ; the Wise lips
jabbering foolishness ; the whole face
and figure, instead of being what one
likes to look at, takes pleasure to see in
the same room even,—growing ugly, ir-rational,
and disgusting—more like
beast than a man. Yet some women
havetobear.it, have to speak kindly to
their husband^, hide their brutishnass,
ond keep them from, making worse fools
of themselvas than they can help. I
have seen it done, nat merely by working
east .overcome by wine, not "drunk" may
be, but just excited, silly, otherwise than
his natural self, it would nearly drive me
wild.—^Less on my accoimt than his. To
see him sink—not for a great crime, but a
contemptable, cowardly bit of sensualism
—^from the height where my love had
placed him ; to have to take care of him,
to pity him—ay, and I might pity him,
but I think the full glory and passion of
my love would die, out then and there for-ever.—
l i f e for a lAfe.
A bite in which teeth are not im-plicated—^
the bight of a rope.
as the day you twined them into garlands
Your sky is as fair as on the morning of
your birth.—^True, y(m may have known
a few dark hours, and temptation may
have threatened your peace, at times, but
the fates were favorable, and all is pros-perous
in due time. Your home is al-ways
happy, and you cannot realize how
any reasonable being should be subject
to the green-eyed monster, or r. lash iroiu
Ihe wing of the sable bird. Therefore,
you come right out blunt*y and boldly,
and cry death on the divorcing and the
divorced.
The stranger at your side listens and
nods assent, pcrchance, or seeks to change
the subject—when her poor tried soul is
all crushed broken and bleeding with the
bitterness of your words. Many a timo
has she laid her cold Cheek upon the damp
earth and prayed in the agony of her
wronged spirit, "Oh, God ! if it be possi-ble,
let this cup pass from me I" But the
men's wives but j ^ y w i v e s in d r a w m g - c a s t ; her fate is sealed jher earth-rooms.
I thmk, if I saw my husband the liy„ hhofmpepss IaPrPe dead, dead, dead !—she is
the victim of divorce, and a by-word fur
the venomous tongue or slamier.
Then, reader, for Heaven's sakt, don't
judge a fellow-mortal. Leave yom- un-lawful
sentence for Him who sitteth upon
the throne. Have charity ; tread softly ;
deal kindly ; speak gently ; and love
mercy. Know ye that there are some
spirits unto whom words of cruelty ami
harshness home like coals of fii-e burn-ing
up all faith in earth and mortality.
Happy for such if their inner souls are
lighted by the silent glories of the better
life.
y

R. H. BI.ODGETT, Fublid&er. TERMSj—$1,00 PER ANNUM IN ADVANCE.
VOLUME 1. EAST HADDAM, SATURDAY, JANUARY 14, I860. NO. 41.
Journal,
B. H. BLODGEII, Pnblidimr.
The JocRKAL is published every Saturday
Morning at East Haddam, Conn., and will be left
at the readence of sobseribeis in both Upper and
Lower Landings at $1 25 per year in advance, or
f 1 60 at the expiration of the year. Subscribers
who r e e ^ e t hw paper at the office or by mail, $1
per year in advance, or $1 25 at the end of the
.year.
"RATES O F A D V E R T I S I N Q .
One square, one week $l 00
Ea^sobeequent insertion 25
One square 2 months 3 M
-One square « months 4 W
' One square 6 months. o 00
One square one 'year.^ • 8 00
ABberal deduction wiU be made to those
• who advertise by the year.
"BOOK AND JOB PRINTING in all its branch-es,
executed with neatness and ^patch, onrea
eonable terms.
JONA'N T. CLABKE,
Attorney and Counselor atlAW.
ANL> N O T A R Y P U B L I C,
Goodspeed's Lwding,
EAST HADDAM, CONN.
w . H. KEIiSET,
JLttomey and<3ounBelor at Law
And Commlasioncr of the Superior Cvoit.
C JLOII ESTER, CONN.
c . S . G L A D W I N , Constable and Collector. Offiee ^ t h J. T. Clarke,
East Haddam, Conn
Bool^ Job and Card Printing
OF EVERY DESCRIPTION
IBxecuted with neatness, and on reasonable teiins,
at tlus office.
rTRUMBXTLIi BOTJSEi
B Y T>' A. R O O D ,
48 State Street, HABTFOBD, COHH.
N O L M S T E D C J K A P M A N ,
Organist and Teacher of aSnsie.
East Haddam, Conn.
Lcissoiu irtvea at the reeideiices of papUs or at Us nwias
•T TLUT GelitUin HOOKA.
Chide XildlyilieEiring.
'Chiiie mildly the erring!
Kind l a n ^ e e endean:
Grief follows Ae mnful,—
Add not to their tears*
Avoid with reproaches
Fresh pun to bestow;,
The heart which is stricketa
Needs never a Mow.
Chide mildly the^efHog'!
Jeer kiotat theirfiOl-I
If strength were bat linmaa
How weakly were all!
^ h a t marvel that footsteps
ShouU wander astray.
When tempests so shadow
Ufe^s wearisome way!
Chide mildly the erring !
Entreat Aem with care !
Their natnies are mortal.;
They need not despair.
We all have some fruity.
We all are unwise,
And the grace which redeems us
Must amine from the skies.
W. M. S M I T H ,
DKALEK IN
Dry Goods, Groceries, Provisions
Tlonr, Feed, Mnts, Oil Cnx^ery WaA,
FBCIT, CONFECTIONERY, KC.
Goodspecd's Landing, East Haddam, Conn.
•G. E . Ss W . H . G O O D S P E E D ,
WUOLKSALK XSt) RETAIL DEALEBJ IN
Groceries, Dry Goods, Provisionsf
n o u , Lumbar, P^to^^jHto, ••miahN, P^ar
Goodspecd's Landing, April 16, 1859.
J , A T T W O O D,
DEALER IN
Keady-Made Clothing, Boots and
ghoai, Onts FuBiahiag Goods, Hats and Ci^a,
OBCGS, AND XEDICINES PATENT MEDICINES, PER-RCMERT,
SCHOOL BOOKS, ICC.
'Goodqxied*s Landing, Conn.
S A M U E L COOK,
Manufitcturer and Dealer in all kinds of
CABXXTET F U R N I T U RE
Z«aldag 01aaaaa,Faath«n, Spriog Bads, Ihttiaaa-
CLOCKS, WOOD a n d WILLOW WARE TC.
'Qoodepeed^a Landing, Conn.
H. THOMPSON,
XAXCFACnrBBR AND DEALER IN
SMnesaes, Saddles, Bridles,
WHIPS, TRUNKS, &c-
Goodspecd's Landing.
S O L . I . E S , S E X T O N & C O .,
COiailSSION MERCHANTS AM) DEALERS IN
-^ancy and Staple Dry Goods.
Ibaiarj, JgttoM, Bibbau,
Also, a general assortment of
. T A I L O B S * TBIMMINGS.
No. SO A^lnm Straet, Hartford, Conn.
INEZ MORTIMER.
A TALE OF BY-GOXE DATS.
CHAPTER L
The waning orange of an autumnal sun-set
lingered with a calm and melancholj
glow on the verge of the western heav-ues,
and the silver east was all-a-glow
with the smiles of the harvest-moon.
Twilight had gathered her sombre cur-tains,
and pinned them with a star ; and
a holy pea^, kindred to rest above, was
brooding over the mellow light >ef the rich
autumn eve.
Beneath the old ^Boestrai trees that
hovered lovingly around a stately man-sion
of the olden .time, sat Inez Auburn
alone.
'Farewell, my own dear ^ew ISngland,"
she gently murmured, "a long, a sad fare-well."
The autumn moon will rise and
set, and her softibeanBSWiil ^eam anon^
tlie haunts where I roved-with the lovecl
of childhood, and I shall be far, far away
from these dear scenes. To-night the fu-ture
of my life ^ U %e sealed fur ^eal or
woe. A melunclKily, IcMie as the music
uf a dream, comes over me, and whispers
if coming sorrow and gloom, But no, it
cannot be,—long days the gainien where she
had ^ n mnsiqg, and where she had
spent so matoy happy hours with hinuin
days departed.
"Inez, 1 have come to bid you a long
farewell,—to tell you that I remain true
to the love I pledge you in happier days.
O I often, whett you are tar away on
summer prairie, I shall wander by these
dear scenes, where we to eft liave roamed
together, and think of the days gone by,
Although a correspondence between us
would be wrong, yet, when the twilight
dews are falling upon the distant prairie
when the summer moon smiles on the
rising even ; when you sing the songs
other days,—^let thoughts of ^but
igs carry
wat will tend to make
CHAFTFR n
After a long journey, Clinton informed
Inez that they were fast nearing their
western home. They had traveled since
morning on horseback, through a wild au-tumnal
forest. Every taw was di-essed
in crimson and.gold ; and the deep, sun-ny
skies of 0(?t6ber shed almost an un-earthly
beauty otered.
"Clinton is it you ? 'Oh I tell me what
means my being hercs^ said Inez.
This is 'to be your future home ; and
here I shall provide for you as my wife
It is useless for you to think of escaping,
Mark my words, if yoti dare io attompt
lb
B R O W N SB G R O S S ,
PUBLISREBS,
Booksellers and Stationers,
«1S Main Street, (comer Asylum) Hartford, Conn
GHARI.ES BENTON,
Soap and Candle ^ Uannfiotiirer,
44MorganSt,10rodswestofthe greatBridge,
HABTFORD, CONN.
o r Gash paid for Tallow. Ashes and Grease
fAin in exchange for Soap.
have let my feelings me too far.
will ask nothing
you-unworthy of him whose lot you are
so soon to share. I will simply ask that
you will dierish a remembrance of me."
"I never shall forget you Martin. The
memoiy of those we have loved are the
aramanth blossoms of the soul.''
They pwted. Already weddmg guests
were arriving at the Auburh mansion.—
Convivial houis of hiliarily followed, and
Inez became Ifae wife of Olmton. That
ni^ht they started for tbe nearest city^
pnot to their leaving the East for then-distant
home, which Clinton had pictured
to Inez as overlooking one of the mo§t
beautiful prainesofthe West, and vying
in splendor with the richest mansions in
Kew England.
down here, and bein' she was afeered to
come alone, she got me to come with her,
an' bring you a Bible."
They said that their names were Jean
and Maud, and that they lived but a few
miles from Inez, and told her that she
did not kno /r before, that she was resi-ding
near a passable, though an almost
unfrequented road. After this Jean and
Maud visited Inez almost daily.
Clinton at last returned again. Wound-ed
and covered with gore, lie entered his
home, and laid himself on the bed. Day
after day he grew worse, and Inez saw
that he must die.
escape from this cabin when I am pfone
you will be a dead woman !"
He proceeded to furnish the cabin, and
to bring in his provision. After doing
this, he left Inez, and she saw hhn nu
moBc for weeks.
Grief, mortification and despair took
possession of the heart o¥ tne^. She
dared not escape, and with a dark future
before her, she submitted to her cruel fate.
Thinking of the loved, and her home far,
f-«r away, she passed the long days in
her solita^ aboide.
Time rolled on. Clinton would return
after an absence of weeks, and bring pro-visions,
and after spending a few days at
his home, Ihe would dt:part to places un-known
to Inez, whom "he treated with
cold indifference.
A .year flew by. Inez became a mother-
Pleasttte'ncm 'gatheTea abound the 6eth-semane
'df Ii^r years. All her affections
were placed upon her beautiful offspring,
and she gave up her fond day dreams of
home and fHen^ afar. But alas I how
soon were her joys to be blighted I
It was a cold night in winter. The
evergreens'Were bending low with their
wei^t of snow, and the glassy icicles
littered mournfully in the cold twilight.
Ilinton returned to his home intoxicated,
and commanded Inez to take her babe,
and leave the She ,pleaded for
men^ 'Sn^ her child in vain. The door
was barred against her. Hour after hour
she walked around the hut, with her bale
pressed to her bosom. Almost perishing
with cold, lAie again plead for mercy.
Her plea was granted. She entered the
cabin, and by the low flame of fire she
saw that her child was—dead. • Clinton
saw it, and with a wild demoniac cry,
he rushed from the scene of woe, leaving
Inez to her solitude.
Beneath the dark green boughs of the
nioumful hemlock, Inez made her child a
grave with her own hands. In calm des-pair
she laid the (»ld earth upon the dear
lips and our flowers are fresh
was tarrying, and listened to her strange
tale of days departed. It was a halcyon
meeting—Inez and Martin. The next
day they started for the East. Inez
found her parents still living, and in a
few years she became the happy bride of
Martin.
HOBRIBLE, THOUGFI TRUE.—have been
thinking how horrible it must be to see
anybo